Incident of the Sterling Fox
by RowdyClara
Summary: COMPLETE: Rowdy goes into Sterling City with Wishbone and Mushy on a harmless supply trip that turns not-so-harmless quickly. Please review and critique!
1. Chapter 1

Rawhide

Incident of the Sterling Fox

Chapter 1

Rowdy Yates: I guess lots of folks don't think about it much, but to me, a horse is more than just a horse. He's my friend and lots of times, he's the only one I've got. He'll stick by me through thick and thin. Sure, he's got his rough spots but don't we have ours too? And how else could we drive these beeves without our horses? We wouldn't. We gotta give 'em credit, that's for sure. My horse's name is Fox. And not just for his color either. He's got the wits and cunning of a fox sometimes it amazes me what that horse can do. I'm Rowdy Yates, ramrod of this drive.

Rowdy Yates dismounted and led his blaze-faced sorrel to the waterhole they had just brought the cattle to. It had been a hot week and this was the first water they had seen for two days. Wishbone and Mushy were on the other side of the small lake filling the water barrels. Rowdy saw the older man scowl at Mushy for a moment then shake his head in disgust. _I wonder what Mushy's done now, he thought, amused. The older cook was always complaining about something Mushy had done, and though he would never admit it, everyone knew that Wishbone had a soft spot for the always smiling, young man. Yates looked up from Fox, who was at the moment happily splashing the water with his white fore hoof, to see a rider coming in at a lope over the rise. As the cloud of dust in the distance came closer and the rider came into view, he was immediately recognized as Gil Favor._

"_How's the cattle?" The deep-voiced trail boss asked. Rowdy admired the man, and though they had their differences now and then, he looked up to him. Sort of like a son would a father. To Yates, Favor was a father, a trail boss, and a friend all wrapped into one. Even though the cattle came first on a drive, Gil Favor looked out for his men._

"_They're doing fine, Boss. We gonna bed down here tonight? Pete told me there's good grazing just over that rise. And with the water so nearby here."_

_Favor nodded and leaned on his saddle horn. "Yep, I figure we can bed down here and maybe let the cattle graze until late tomorrow and get their fill." He smiled. "And besides, I don't think Wish'd forgive me if I didn't let him stock up on more supplies. Said he's about out of flour and he needs an extra wheel on account of that last one breakin' up at the pass."_

"_Do you think maybe I could go into town with him? Me and some of the men have some letters we were hoping to mail to our folks soon, and Fox lost one of his shoes back there. It wouldn't take more'n an hour at the most. I could be back in time to bed down the cattle." Rowdy asked hopefully. He searched the boss' eyes and he saw an amused twinkle in his eye._

_Seeing the eager expression on the young ramrod's face, Favor relented. "You can go. But I want you back in time to help, you hear?" _

_Rowdy nodded firmly and grinned up at the trail boss. "You got my word, Mr. Favor."_

"_Town's about 5 miles east of here. A little place called Sterling Gap." Favor nodded his head indicating the direction. "And while you're there, I got somethin' I want you to mail for me too." He pulled out an envelope from his shirt pocket and leaned over to hand it to Rowdy. "It's to my daughters."_

_Rowdy nodded again, "Will do, Mr. Favor." He mounted up and rode off to where Wishbone and Mushy were finishing filling up the last water barrel. Just as Rowdy was reining in near the chuck wagon, Mushy tripped and caused both cook and louse to fall. Water spewed everywhere and Fox shied at the sudden shower. "Steady, boy, steady," Rowdy soothed his horse._

"_Gosh it all, Mushy! Can't you do nothin' right!" Wishbone exploded. "I think you must have two left feet, and they're both made of butter."_

"_I'm awful sorry, Mr. Wishbone. I guess I must've tripped," replied the apologetic Mushy._

_Wishbone's mouth gaped and Rowdy could see the cook's face turning red. "You guess? You guess? I'll guess you right outta here if you're not out of my sight in 10 seconds, I'll-"_

"_Aw, come on, Wish. It was just an accident." Rowdy said in Mushy's defense. Mushy was scrambling in the mud that the water had created and was making a futile attempt to get back to the wagon. Yates skirted around the mud to where Mushy was trying to get up and helped him up. _

"_Accident, my eye! I think he must have a death wish. Well, you'll be mighty well told, he'll get it if he keeps it up." Wishbone got up and gave Mushy a glare that would've made any child cry out in fear. Mushy's eyes got wide and he hurriedly proceeded in getting the barrel back to the water._

"_Well, whenever you and Mushy finish up here, Mr. Favor wants you to go into town to get that replacement wheel and any supplies you need. I'll be going with you to mail some things and get Fox's shoe fixed, so let me know when you're ready to move out." _

"_It's about time we came to a town. I'm about out of everything and if Mushy keeps it up, I'll probably be out of a wagon and team before we even set out." With that final word, the older man stalked angrily toward Mushy who was trying his best to lug the barrel back out of the lake. Huffing and grumbling something about incompetence, Wishbone helped him drag the barrel, which was now filled again, onto the bank. _

_The young ramrod mounted up and smiled as Mushy took care to walk ever so carefully around the place where they had previously fallen. After succeeding in tying the barrel back onto the wagon with no further episodes, the trio headed east for the little town known as Sterling Gap, not knowing what awaited them and having no thought as to what dangers lay in wait for them._


	2. Chapter 2

Rawhide

Incident of the Sterling Fox

Chapter 2

With Wishbone and Mushy driving the wagon, the older man still bickering about the water barrel incident, and Rowdy riding close beside them, the three drovers made it into town just as the sun was beginning to dip its way towards the horizon. The blue sky was fast fading from a pure, sweet blue to the yellows and oranges that the sunset brings.

It was a fair sized town, not very big but not terribly small either. On the outskirts of the town there were a few small farms. The first building they came to was the Wiley General Store, across the street stood the combination bank and post office. Wishbone pulled the team to a halt in front of the general store. The store's exterior was white and the paint was beginning to peel from the harsh conditions of the winds that swept through the town. The letters above the framed doorway, which revealed the name of the building, were a faded red. Farther on down the street past a noisy saloon, more houses, and a doctor's office, stood the livery stable and blacksmith. Beside the general store, where Mushy and Wishbone were now about to make their way into the building, was the sheriff's office.

"I'll mail these letters first, then I'll meet you back here after I get Fox shoed. You'll be done by then, won't you, Wish?" Rowdy called out to the cook.

Looking a bit irritated for being asked such a ridiculous question, Wishbone whirled around to face Rowdy. "Of course, I will. It don't take me all day just to pick up a few supplies like _some_ people." Wishbone glared pointedly at Mushy who was fingering a blue plaid shirt. When Mushy felt Wishbone's eyes boring into him, his face flushed and he smiled embarrassedly as he went ahead into the store to wait for the cook.

Wishbone looked skyward and threw his hands up in the air. "Don't know what I'm gonna do with that boy," he muttered.

Yates found himself smiling at their antics and trotted Fox across the street to the Sterling Post Office and Bank. After dismounting and tying the split reins loosely around the hitching rack, Rowdy gave his sorrel horse one final pat and headed up the steps into the post office. There were four other men with sweat-soaked, winded horses about to go inside as well. _I hope I don't have to wait behind them in line,_ the ramrod thought. He had promised Mr. Favor he'd be back to help bed down the herd and he didn't want to be late.

The inside of the vast building was eerily quiet. Off to the left side of the interior was the post office part, and along the back and curving around to the right was the bank. Rowdy glanced around curiously at the nervous looking clerks and their furtive glances at him. He tried to shrug off the feeling of impending danger, but it still stuck with him. Walking up to the window where the postmaster was sorting letters, Yates cleared his throat.

The thin man turned around and pushed up his thin wire-framed glasses that seemed to match his own build. "Yes, sir? How may I help you?"

Rowdy pulled the letters out from his pocket and laid them on the counter. "I'd like to have these mailed. I'm ramrodin' a herd a few miles west of here and-" His sentence was cut short by a loud crashing sound at the door.

Standing in the doorway, were three of the men whom he had seen just outside a few minutes before. In their hands were gleaming revolvers. None of the men looked hesitant to use them.

_They're bold, they ain't even wearin' masks!_ Rowdy glared angrily at them. He clenched his jaw in anger and glanced over at the postmaster. The small man was wringing his hands and his eyes shifted back and forth nervously. One of the men was prodding one of the tellers with his pistol. Both tellers had their hands high in the air and with no other choice at the moment, they began handing over the money from the safe.

Outside, a clear high neigh filled with fear reached Rowdy's ears. _Fox!, he tried to see what the fourth man might be doing outside but the windows were dusty and covered with dirt. He hoped Fox was just being his usual high-strung self but no matter how much he tried to reason with himself, he knew the fourth gang member must be gathering fresh horses for their getaway._

_The men hadn't seemed to notice the young ramrod and the postmaster, so Rowdy decided to take a chance. His hand reached toward his pistol. But no! He wasn't fast enough. As the barrel of the gun cleared Rowdy's holster, the swift movement caught one of the gang member's eyes and he drew on Rowdy. _

_The man's gun went off and Rowdy's answered with a sharp reply of its own. The other man yelped and grabbed his shoulder. But he still had his gun in his hand. He shot once more. Rowdy felt an intense pain shoot along the side of his head and suddenly the world began to swim before his eyes. He tried to squeeze the trigger in one final attempt but the effort was too much. His gun clattered to the floor and the young ramrod fell. He felt something slam into his shoulder. His vision was becoming even more blurred and he was having trouble seeing what was happening. But he could hear. The noises were faint, but there they were. There were more gunshots that and he heard a faraway neigh. The pain was becoming more intense now. Rowdy fought to keep hold of consciousness but finally gave in to the pain. He slipped into a large blackness and the world around was enveloped in an unending void._


	3. Chapter 3

Rawhide

Incident of the Sterling Fox

Chapter 3

_It's not like Rowdy to break his word unless…_Gil Favor shook his head and sighed. Pushing his hat back, he looked in the direction of Sterling Gap. _Aw, he's probably met some girl and forgot the time. _Night had fallen and the herd had been bedded down for the night. The crickets chirped songs to each other through the prairie grass. Clouds passed over the full moon casting eerie shadows over the herd and the glassy lake on the other side of the small stand of trees. The men were beginning to get restless and several had stopped to watch for Wishbone and the chuck wagon. Pete Nolan strolled over to where Favor was unsaddling his horse. His own horse, Spot, had already been rubbed down and was now grazing with the rest of the remuda.

"Any sign of em yet, Boss?" Pete asked. The scout had been scanning the east for the past hour and had seen no sign of the chuck wagon.

"Not yet - but if they don't get here in the next hour, I want you to go into town and see what's up." Gil Favor answered.

"Sure thing, Boss. Me and the boys are gonna break out a deck of cards that Quince found. You wanna join?"

The trail boss sighed again and proceeded in rubbing down his big bay. "No, not this time, Pete. But thanks, anyway."

Pete nodded. Just as he was turning to go tell Quince to deal him a hand, something to the east caught his eye. He squinted. Yes, there it was! Pete grabbed Favor's arm. "Boss! Is that what I think it is?" He asked excitedly.

Favor turned around to look where the scout was eagerly pointing. Sure enough, about half a mile away was Wishbone and Mushy driving the chuck wagon. Favor became confused. Where was Rowdy? As the wagon drew closer, he could see that neither Rowdy nor his horse were with Wishbone. "Something's wrong." He stated worriedly.

He hurried out to meet them with Pete fast on his heels. Wishbone reined the team to a stop at the edge of the stand of trees. The cook's face looked worried and tired. Suddenly, Wishbone looked older than ever. Mushy only smiled weakly at the scout and trail boss. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

"Where's my ramrod?" Gil Favor was not one to beat around the bush.

Wishbone heaved a heavy sigh and got down from the wagon seat. "Mr. Favor…"

"Yes?"

"I've got some bad news about your ramrod." Wishbone hesitated for a moment, then continued. "Well…while we were in town the bank was robbed-there was a gunfight."

"And what's this got to do with Rowdy? He was just supposed to mail some letters and get his horse shoed then come straight back here." Favor was beginning to get impatient.

"I'm getting' there. Just hold your horses. You see, in Sterling Gap, the post office is in the same building as the bank. Rowdy was there when it was robbed." Wishbone saw the worried look suddenly intensify on his boss's face. "Oh, he's not done for, Boss! Don't you worry none about that."

"But where _is he? Was he hurt?"_

"_He's at the doc's place in town. They wouldn't let us take him back with us. Rowdy was still unconscious when we left town. Thought you oughta know and I'm sure these boys were getting a mite hungry." Mushy jumped down beside Wishbone. Pete noticed the cook's louse was wearing a new blue plaid shirt he had never seen before. He listened as Wishbone continued with his story. "A bullet grazed his head and he got another in the shoulder but the doc patched him up before we left." Wishbone had taken off his hat and fiddling with the brim. He glanced up at the trail boss. "You gonna go see him?"_

"_Yeah, why don't you go on, Mr. Favor? I can take charge here for a little while." Pete chimed in._

_Gil Favor removed his hat and scratched his head. "I think I'd better. You keep an eye on things, Pete. Wish, you'd better hurry up and feed those men. They can be mighty irritable without their dinner." He winked at Wishbone. _

"_Don't you worry none, Mr. Favor. I can handle 'em. Come on, Mushy. Let's get this grub goin'." Wishbone turned around and started pushing Mushy towards the back of the wagon._

_The trail boss turned to Pete. "I'll be back by morning. I'll probably stay over. Keep em in line, Pete."_

_Pete nodded. "Okay, boss. I'll do that." He smiled._

_Favor nodded and gave a small smile. He went back to the picket line and saddled up his horse again. Mounting up, he waved goodbye to Pete and headed east to the town called Sterling Gap. The town where his ramrod was drifting in unconsciousness lying in a doctor's office._


	4. Chapter 4

Rawhide

Incident of the Sterling Fox

Chapter 4

Rowdy Yates slowly came back to consciousness. His head was pounding and his left shoulder ached terribly. He cautiously opened his eyes and suddenly he was blinded by a bright light beside him. The ramrod blinked his eyes a few times waiting for them to adjust. He was lying in a bed in a small room. Beside the bed was a nightstand with a pitcher, a basin of water, a towel, and a lamp. _What happened?_ A look of confusion passed over his face, then suddenly he remembered. He had been at the post office about to mail some letters then these men had busted in and robbed the bank. He had been shot. Rowdy reached up and felt his head. It was now bandaged, as was his shoulder. _Fox! What happened to him?_ Rowdy panicked and tried to sit up. He cried out as an inconceivable pain shot through his shoulder.

The noise Rowdy had created brought the doctor's attention to the young man's room. Getting up from his desk, he scooted back his chair and hurried toward Rowdy's room. He opened the door to see his patient struggling in vain to sit up.

"Now, now there, young man. You _must_ lie still." The doctor gently pushed Yates back down. "You had us worried, Mr. Yates. You were out for quite a while there. Your two friends went back to your herd to get your boss."

The doctor was a middle-aged man in his late forties Rowdy guessed. His thinning brown hair was beginning to gray on the sides. He had a kind expression on his face that made the young ramrod feel at ease.

Rowdy looked around, confused. "Where am I?"

"You're at my office. I'm Mark Dixon, the doctor here in Sterling Gap." The doctor replied kindly. "How do you feel?"

"My head feels like someone's been dancing a jig on it, and my shoulder's kinda sore." Rowdy's face was etched with pain as the pounding in his head became worse. The pain was suddenly all he could think of. Fox was gone from his mind for the present.

"I've done all I can for you at the moment. The best thing for you would be sleep and lots of rest." Glancing at the water pitcher on the nightstand, Dr. Dixon asked, "Would you like a glass of water maybe?"

"No, but thanks anyway, Doc." Rowdy replied weakly.

"Alright, but if there's anything you need, you just let me know, son. I'll be in my office, it's just outside your room, so just call for me." The doctor opened the door.

Rowdy nodded slightly it was the best he could do with his head throbbing the way it was. Dixon left the room, and Rowdy was once again alone. He sighed wearily and settled back into the soft, lush pillow. The sound of hoof beats on the street and the crickets outside his window finally lulled the ramrod into a deep sleep. Not even the opening of his door and the entering of Gil Favor awakened him.

The trail boss settled into a chair at Rowdy's bedside. He looked on as his ramrod slept, his breathing even. The doctor had told him what had happened in more details than Wishbone had been able to provide. Dixon had gotten the information from the postmaster who had witnessed it all. The Holt Gang was in town and the bank had done its best to prepare in case the gang struck. But the sheriff had only stepped out the back way for a moment when one of the men had come up from behind and struck him on the head with his gun butt. Rowdy had been mailing the letters when Bryan, Seth, and Cameron Holt had busted in.

The postmaster said that the hot-headed ramrod drew on Cameron and Cameron had shot him. Rowdy did get one of his marks though. The youngest Holt brother, Cameron, had gotten a slug in the shoulder. In sheer anger he had shot Rowdy again even though the ramrod had already fallen. Their cohort, Carl Gleason, was waiting outside with fresh horses. One of them being Fox. _He's sure gonna take it hard when he finds out they took Fox,_ Favor thought miserably.

Gil Favor knew how much Rowdy's horse meant to him. When the time had come for Fox to be broke, Rowdy had volunteered and had won the horse over like no other way the trail boss had ever seen before. There had been no bucking, no twisting or trying to throw the rider. Fox had walked up to Rowdy as if he to say he had picked the ramrod. Fox was a sly one though. Every once in a while he would keep Rowdy on his toes by crow hopping a little when they were on the trail or taking a big breath of air and holding it while Rowdy tightened the cinch, then when they were about to set off Fox let his breath out and the saddle would slip. And so would Rowdy.

"_Yes, sir. That's a one man horse,"_ he had told Rowdy that first day. Favor smiled at the memory. Sure, Fox would let others ride him but he never gave his best like he did for Rowdy, and nobody else seemed to be able to read the horse's every move like the ramrod did. Fox and Yates rode as one.

The trail boss sat in the chair for watching and waiting for his ramrod to awaken again. An hour later, Favor drifted off to sleep. It had been a long hard day and the noise of the nightlife and the peacefulness of the room made it hard for him to stay awake. It was Rowdy's voice that finally roused him out of his peaceful sleep about thirty minutes later.

"Mr. Favor? What are you doin' here?" Came the weak voice of the wounded ramrod.

Gil Favor rubbed his eyes and straightened up in the chair. "Hello, Rowdy. Wish came back to camp and told me what happened. How're you feelin'?"

"Oh, okay, I guess. A little sore and my head's still throbbing some." Rowdy paused. "Who's watching the herd?"

Favor smiled and chuckled. "You're doin' just fine, boy. I've got Pete watching the herd."

Rowdy nodded, closed his eyes, and settled back into his pillow again. The trail boss thought Rowdy might be going back to sleep and was about to seek a more comfortable position in the hard wooden chair, when Yates suddenly struggled to sit up. Pain shot up his shoulder again but he tried to ignore it. There was something he _had_ to know.

"Woah, there, boy. You gotta stay in that bed till the doc says you can-" Gil Favor was interrupted.

"Mr. Favor, there's somethin' I gotta know. Before I passed out I heard Fox neighing. Like he was scared. I think the one of the other gang members was gathering fresh horses." Rowdy swallowed hard, dreading the reply he knew was coming. "They got Fox, didn't they?"

Favor put his down and answered, "Yeah, Rowdy. They took Fox with em along with several other horses." The trail boss saw a look of mixed emotions on the ramrod's face. There was anger because his beloved horse had been stolen, and then sorrow for fear he might never see his horse again. "There are other horses out there, Rowdy. When you're back up and about, which should be tomorrow according to the doctor, you can take your pick of any horse in the remuda. You can have any one you want." Gil Favor said trying to cheer up the downtrodden young man.

Rowdy tried to smile. He tried to be grateful. But in his heart, he knew no horse could ever replace Fox. "Sure, boss. Thanks." He felt hot tears start to spring to his eyes. _Come on, Rowdy. You can't cry in front of Mr. Favor. You're no baby. Rowdy thought angrily to himself._

_Favor noticed Rowdy's sudden discomfort and got up from his seat, preparing to leave the room. Rowdy glanced up thankfully at his boss and a mutual respect and understanding passed between them. The trail boss smiled slightly. "You get some sleep, Rowdy. I think I'll see if the doc's got any coffee." He turned and opened the door to go. _

_Rowdy stopped him. "Thanks, Mr. Favor." _

"_Anytime, Rowdy." Gil Favor left the room shutting the door quietly behind him._

_Rowdy sighed heavily and settled farther into the clean white sheets covering the bed. He let the tears flow freely now. The warmth of the room and the sounds of the night once again lulled him into a deep, restful sleep._


	5. Chapter 5

Rawhide

Incident of the Sterling Fox

Chapter 5

Dawn was breaking and a rooster greeted the rising sun as Harkness Mushgrove III rode into town with an extra horse in tow the next morning. Wishbone had gotten him up earlier than usually that morning and had sent him with another horse for Rowdy. Gil Favor had sent word the night before that Rowdy was well enough to leave in the morning.

Mushy stood in his stirrups to survey the buildings, trying to remember where the doctor's office was located. He leaned too far forward and almost fell on his horse's neck. "Whoa, boy." He said, even though the horse was used to Mushy's riding and had no intention of bolting. The horse blinked lazily and shook its mane vigorously. Shading his eyes from the sun rising on the horizon directly ahead, Mushy finally spotted the doctor's office near the end of the street next to the blacksmith's shop.

He trotted the horses up the street and reached the doctor's office to find Favor standing on the boardwalk in front of the building leaning on a post. "Howdy, Mr. Favor. I brought a horse for Mr. Rowdy like Mr. Wishbone said to."

"Good boy, Mushy. Why don't you come in? The doc's got a pot of coffee boiling."

Mushy dismounted and tied the horses to the hitch rack. "I'd like that, Mr. Favor. Mr. Wishbone, he says I should wait for you and Mr. Rowdy till you're ready to move out."

"Alright, then." With that, the two drovers entered the clean office of Dr. Dixon. To the right of them was an open door leading to the room where Rowdy had spent the night. Off to the left of the room, the doctor was preparing a pot of coffee. He looked up to see Favor and the young drover he had met last night. Rowdy was sitting at a table beside the stove. His head was bandaged and his arm was now in a sling. Mushy noticed the ramrod looked a bit grumpy.

"Hello, Mr. Dixon." He greeted the doctor, having met him the night before. Mushy beamed Rowdy a big smile and waved his fingers in salutation. "Hello, Mr. Rowdy. How're you feeling this morning?"

"Just fine, Mushy. Have a seat." Rowdy invited the young man with a sweep of his good arm motioning to a chair across from him.

"Thank you kindly." Mushy took his hat off and ambled over to one of the vacant chairs to sit down.

The doctor walked back to the table with several cups and the coffee pot in his hands. He carefully set them down careful not to spill any and then brought out a chair for himself. "Well, hello there, Harkness. Your friend here is doing just fine thanks to your quick thinking and bringing him straight here." Mushy blushed at the compliment.

The scene struck Rowdy funny and he sputtered his coffee while laughing hysterically. The doctor looked at him queerly and Favor interrupted. "My ramrod seems to think somethin's _funny._" He elbowed Rowdy.

"I'm sorry, I just-" He burst out laughing again. Favor elbowed him harder making him grunt. Rowdy cleared his throat and forced himself to stop laughing. "I, uh, just thought of something funny, that's all." He cleared his throat again and looked down, embarrassed.

The doctor was still giving him an odd look. "Oh, that's, um, that's quite alright, Mr. Yates. We all need a good laugh now and then. They say laughter is the best medicine, you know."

Favor rested his elbows on the table and continued to sip his coffee. The coffee was still hot but he wanted to get back to the herd as soon as possible. Mushy had taken off his hat and seemed to have forgotten about the invitation to coffee when the doctor had complimented him. He was now fumbling with hat and, yes, still blushing. Rowdy had managed to get control of himself and was halfway through his cup of coffee.

Outside, the horses stomped impatiently almost as eager as Favor to get back. Birds were singing their morning songs and the town was beginning to awaken. The sun was peaking over the horizon and slowly but steadily making its way to the dawning sky above.

They finally finished their coffee just as the sun looked to be sitting directly on the horizon. They thanked the doctor for his hospitality and Favor paid Rowdy's doctor bill. Mushy had gone out ahead of them and was waiting on the two drovers when the stepped outside. The horse that Hey Soos had picked for Rowdy's trip was a spunky bay gelding with a white star peeking out from under his thick forelock, giving him an almost haughty look as he tossed his mane.

Rowdy walked up to his side and rubbed the gelding's velvety nose. He snorted and bumped the ramrod's chest with his nose. He chuckled but his happiness faded when his thoughts turned back to Fox. _Fox used to do the same thing. What am I thinking! 'Used to', _Rowdy thought to himself,_ I'll get you back, Fox. I'll get you back if it's the last thing I do!_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

At a large ranch approximately 6 miles north of town, the front almost hidden from view by a long row trees, there was a heated argument going on. The man and woman doing the arguing were standing beside a newly-made large corral. The man was well-built and his complexion was sun-dyed brown and that of a man who had spent most of his life on the trail. The woman wore a soft white, cotton dress, and her brown hair was pulled up in a neat bun. A few rebellious strands had managed to escape and blew across her face. She brushed them away and continued to argue with the man.

"I just can't! I can't let you use my place as a hideout. I've done a lot of things for you but I ain't gonna take a risk like that, Carl!" She said in her soft southern accent.

"That sheriff's gonna be lookin' for us all over the county, Amy. Me and the boys can't just hide up in them hills forever, and one of them horses we took is missin' a shoe. I can fix his shoe but I'll need your anvil. Listen to me, Amy! Ain't you forgettin' what I did for your parents when they were alive?" He pleaded with her.

She sighed heavily. "No, I'm not. I'm not forgettin' how you helped us when nobody else would, but I've got the bank money hidden under the floorboards in that secret place up in the loft. Isn't that enough? You know I'd do almost anything for you but I just can't take a risk like that."

Carl Gleason shook her gently by the shoulders. "Amy, girl. Look at me, Amy. Do this for me just this once and I'll leave alone. Or maybe we could use my cut of the money and we could go to Mexico. Together. Please, Amy?"

She looked deep into his blue eyes and saw a desperate, pleading look. "Alright, Carl. You can hide here. But I don't want any of your money." She gave in.

"Oh, thank you, Amy, girl! You won't regret it!" He hugged her tenderly.

"I wish you'd never joined up with those Holt boys and things could go back the way they were when Momma and Pa were still alive. You only got back to these parts last week." She muttered softly.

"Now you know that can never happen, girl. I wished that twister hadn't come and taken your ma and pa to their graves too. I used to wish a lot of things. But wishin' can't change things or turn back time." He looked to the hills with a faraway look in his eyes. "That's why I stopped wishin' a long time ago."

The horse in the corral neighed. An answering whinny came from farther past the trees, and the faint sounds of an approaching buggy and the sound of a familiar horse's light hoof beats were heard.

Amy Jackson turned quickly away from the sound and began pushing Gleason to a saddled horse that was ground-tied nearby. "You'd better go. My uncle's comin'! If you leave right now, you should be able to make it without him hearin' you leave. I'll see you tonight. And when you come, come in by the back way. You can leave your horses in the old cook shack behind the house." She gave him one final shove. "Now hurry!"

Gleason mounted up and gathered the split reins in his left hand. "I'll be seein' you then." With a final tip of his hat, he rode off in the direction of the lonely hills where the three Holt brothers were waiting for him to return to their camp.

Amy took her gaze away from the hills and looked down the road leading to the ranch, waiting for her uncle's rig to come into view. She shaded her eyes from the noon sun that was now beating down on the prairie. The flowers that she had attempted to plant in front of the large, white ranch-house that spring had withered away and died as a result of the sun and the harsh weather conditions of the West.

_Momma could've made 'em grow,_ she thought sadly. Her parents had been killed when a tornado had swept through the ranch destroying everything in its path. She herself had been in town visiting friends when the looming black clouds had started circling and a cone-shaped cloud came down as if being lowered by some invisible force. When she had returned to the ranch after the storm, she found it had been totally demolished and her parents were dead, leaving her an orphan. That is, until her uncle had heard of her misfortune and had moved to Sterling Gap to set up his practice. The townsfolk and friends of the family had helped her get back on her feet and she had prospered. That had been three summers ago. Amy Jackson was now 20 years of age and she was running the ranch with only a little help from her uncle now and then.

She waved a greeting as Dr. Mark Dixon's rig pulled up near the barn. The light carriage horse tossed his head and nickered to a familiar filly in the corral. "Hello, Uncle Mark!"

Dr. Dixon stepped down from his seat in the black buggy smiled at his niece. "Hello, Amy. I thought I'd come out and see how you were doing."

"I'm doin' just fine. How bout yourself?"

"Pretty well, I suppose. The people of Sterling Gap rarely have the need of a doctor though." He chuckled. "I did have a new patient last night. He just left this morning."

"Well, why don't come in the house and tell me about it while I get us a cool glass of lemonade. I just made it this morning." Amy invited. After her uncle enthusiastically accepted the invitation, the two went into the house.

The ranch house was a one-story with an attic and a vast cellar. The house was long and the railing on the shaded porch was brand new. Amy opened the door and invited her uncle inside. He tipped his hat to her and bowed gallantly with a twinkle in his eye. Amy giggled and took his hat to a peg in the wall behind the door. Then she led Dixon to a plain, but homey-looking parlor.

"Go ahead and take a seat, Uncle Mark. I'll go fetch that lemonade." Amy hurried out of the room into the kitchen. She returned a few moments later daintily carrying a silver tray with a glass pitcher filled to the peak with sweet, cool lemonade and two tall glasses.

After setting down the tray on the small, low table and filling the glasses for the two of them, she took a seat in a cushioned chair across from her uncle who was seated on the sofa. Dr. Dixon took a sip of the lemonade. "You know, Amy, I've never met anyone who could make lemonade as good as you can. This is positively delicious and very refreshing." He took a long drink and let the cool liquid run down his throat letting it cool him inside, after the hot drive from town.

Amy blushed. "Oh, you're just sayin' that. But thanks for the compliment." She smiled at her uncle and took a drink from her own filled glass. "You say you had a new patient, Uncle Mark?"

The doctor swallowed another drink of the cool, fresh liquid. "Ah, yes. I suppose you've already heard of the robbery at the bank that happened yesterday?" Amy nodded that she had indeed heard about it. Dixon continued, "Well, there was a young man, a drover, ramrod as a matter of fact, mailing some letters for his friends. Anyway, the robbers stormed in while this young man, Yates, was there. He got shot up pretty bad-"

Amy gasped. "He's alright, ain't he?"

"Yes, fortunately, two of his friends who came into town with him brought him to my office before he lost too much blood." Her uncle sighed wearily. "Those Holt brothers are bad ones. That drover had already been shot and was helpless, when that youngest one shot him again." The doctor set down his now empty glass. "There should be no risk of infection now as long as he keeps the bandages changed, so I let him go back with his trail boss this morning."

"Oh, I'm glad. Um…more lemonade, uncle?" Amy said distractedly.

Dr. Dixon did not notice his niece's preoccupied manner as she began straightening her skirt nervously. The doctor thought a moment then shook his head. "No, I don't believe I will but thank you all the same, dear."

He continued to tell her of his ventures, patients, and the hot weather for a good hour before getting up to take his leave. Before going, Dr. Dixon leaned over and took her hand and patted it. "I just wanted to come out and see how you were getting along." Amy followed him while he got his hat from the peg. "Thank you again for the lemonade, Amy. I'd best get back to the office."

"Have a safe trip, uncle." Amy opened the door for her uncle who tipped his hat to her before leaving the house.

"I will, Amy. Goodbye! If you need anything, you know where to find me." Dixon called from his buggy. Amy waved as her uncle pulled away from the corral and started to drive his horse to the road.

She watched the long billows of dust that was stirred up by the buggy's wheels as they churned up the dry ground on the road. Thoughts swarmed and milled in her mind. _If the Holt brothers are as dangerous as Uncle Mark says...Her thoughts trailed off not daring for them to continue. "Oh, Carl. Please be careful." She whispered silently._


	7. Chapter 7

Rawhide

Incident of the Sterling Fox

Chapter 7

"I don't know, Hey Soos-" Rowdy began. He scratched his head and studied the horse.

"Oh, but, SeñorRowdy, she is a good mare. She has the heart of a lover, and the swiftness of an eagle. But she is young and has yet much to learn." Hey Soos, the wrangler, stroked the palomino mare's gently sloping withers. "_Si_, Lolita, she would make a good partner for you. She is young but you will find her very charming."

Rowdy sighed half in frustration and half in weariness. So far, he and Hey Soos had disagreed on just about every horse in the remuda. The Mexican wrangler had shown him the horses that he thought would best match Rowdy's wishes, but so far Rowdy had turned down all of them. All Rowdy wanted was to have Fox back. No horse could match his own horse's talents and cunning, in his mind.

Just then, Gil Favor walked up to the pair who were debating on the mare. "Well, Rowdy? Have you picked a mount yet?"

Rowdy hooked his battered hat on the back of his head and pulled the brim forward, shaking his head. "Boss, I don't know. I-"

"Now I know you hate losing Fox, boy, but you gotta face facts. He ain't comin' back and we're certainly not gonna go blazing around on the trail after those bank robbers. We've got a herd to move!"

Rowdy clenched his teeth. _Maybe _we_ won't be goin' after 'em, but I am!_ He promised silently.

Gil Favor continued, "You better have a horse picked before tomorrow mornin', cause we're movin' out at dawn. The beeves have had their fill and we've got a schedule to keep. We've held 'em up long enough." After giving Rowdy a look that said he meant it, the trail boss wandered over to where Wishbone was starting the stew and sourdough biscuits.

Rowdy turned back to Hey Soos and the mare. The golden mare's coat shone in the fading sunlight and the shadows from the leaves above picked out every gleaming dapple. Her brownish-gold tipped ears pricked towards Rowdy and she nickered her approval. Hey Soos smiled at her and scratched a special spot under her mane. She groaned with pleasure and her eyelids relaxed so that her eyes were almost closed.

"You say her name's Lolita?" Rowdy asked rubbing the palomino's forehead with his free hand.

"_Si,_ but she has never really liked it." Hey Soos answered. At the same time, the mare shook her mane as if to agree. Rowdy grinned slightly. He was still thinking of Fox, though.

"Let me think about it and I'll let you know which horse tonight, Hey Soos, okay?"

"Of course, I believe I understand. A loved one can never be replaced, but maybe you will find a space in your heart for another." With a sad but understanding glance to Rowdy, Hey Soos led the mare back to the remuda. Rowdy watched as she nuzzled Hey Soos's neck and playfully danced on the end of her lead.

'_A loved one can never be replaced' , _What Hey Soos had said echoed in Rowdy's mind later as they ate Wishbone's stew and the cowboys joshed the cook about his awful food, even though they ate it like ravenous wolves, _'Maybe you will find a space in your heart for another'._ Rowdy picked around in his stew and finally finished after almost everyone was done eating. He left the dented tin plate with Mushy, who was doing the last of the dishwashing, and sat against a tree in a secluded spot away from the fire. Wishbone had deemed it safe for Rowdy to take off the sling just before supper, as long as he didn't strain his arm. Yates was glad to be free of the clumsy cloth that had hindered his movement. His shoulder was still sore but not as bad as it had been earlier. Wishbone announced that Rowdy had a slight fever but he assured the young ramrod that he'd be fine in no time.

The drovers good-naturedly insulted one another and laughter arose occasionally as some poor greenie fell for an old joke, while Rowdy's mind was a million miles away. Guitar chords were strummed softly and sweetly by Pete, and, having finished the dishes, Mushy played his harmonica in harmony to the guitar. Pete's voice rose melodiously in the still, silent night as he sang a song.

"What you doin' over here all by yourself?" Rowdy startled. He hadn't heard the trail boss come up behind him.

Rowdy looked down and pulled a few blades of the dried prairie grass beside him and threw them back down. "Just thinkin' is all." He replied.

Sensing that his ramrod needed to be alone, Favor shrugged and walked back over to the fire where his crew was listening to Pete finish his song.

"_Goodbye, old Paint, I'm a-leavin' Cheyenne,_

_Goodbye, old Paint, I'm a-leavin' Cheynne;_

_I'm a-leavin' Cheyenne, I'm off to Montana,_

_Goodbye, old Paint, I'm a-leavin' Cheyenne._

_My foot in the stirrup, my pony won't stand,_

_Goodbye, old Paint, I'm a-leavin' Cheyenne."_

Rowdy listened as the last notes of the song lingered and trailed off into the night, catching on the breeze and traveling through the night air. He watched as the drovers around the fire clapped and someone requested the song _Sweet Betsy from Pike_. Pete and Mushy got up and bowed to each other dramatically. Pete nodded to the rhythm as he strummed out the chords that began the well-known tune. This time, though, Mushy set aside his harmonica and sang along with the other drovers.

Surprisingly, Mushy sang this song well and his face shone with delight as they went farther into the song.

Everyone had their attention on Pete and Mushy. _Now's my chance,_ Rowdy thought urgently. It was now or never if he was ever going to get Fox back. Silently and cautiously, keeping one eye on the men surrounding the fire and another on where he was going, Rowdy slipped behind the trees and managed to make it to the remuda without being noticed. Or so he thought.

"Senor Rowdy, what are you doing?" The small whisper had come from Hey Soos. He was peering curiously over the back of the horse in front of Rowdy.

Rowdy jumped at the sudden voice. "I can't sit around while those crooks have Fox. He's missing a shoe and they might shoot him if he goes lame. I've got to get him back. And you're not gonna stop me." He whispered sharply back to the wrangler.

Hey Soos looked hurt for a moment. "I did not plan on stopping you, Senor Rowdy. I know how much it means to you. You would have found a way to go after him later anyway. It is better that you go while we are near." He held up a finger motioning for Rowdy to wait. "Wait here." He disappeared into the shadows of the herd of horses.

Rowdy cast an anxious glance over his shoulder as he waited impatiently for Hey Soos's return. The soft thump of hooves hitting soft earth came closer and Hey Soos reappeared with the palomino mare, Lolita, being led quietly beside him. She was already saddled and her eyes seemed to question what was going on. Why was the man who took care of them saddling her up this time of night? He always made sure she had plenty of graze at the end of the day if there was any to be found. She stomped her hoof and nickered questioningly.

"I thought you might try to leave to look for Fox so I had her ready for you. You like her, no?" Hey Soos waited for an answer, smiling.

Rowdy gaped at him and it was a few moments before words came from his mouth. "I-I-" Rowdy managed to stammer. "Of course, I do! Thanks, Hey Soos. You're one in a million."

Hey Soos smiled with pleasure and handed Rowdy the reins as the ramrod mounted up. "But promise me one thing, Senor Rowdy."

Rowdy looked down from his position on the mare's broad back. "Yeah, what's that?"

"Promise me, that if it becomes to risky to rescue your horse, you will get help. You would be up against four desperate men, senor. Please promise me."

"Hey Soos, I-." Rowdy hesitated. If he wasted time getting help Fox might already be gone and the thieves would be too. He looked down at Hey Soos's worried and serious face. "Alright, I promise." He promised reluctantly.

Hey Soos nodded firmly. "_Gracias. But if you are not back before dawn, I will tell Senor Favor where you have gone." He let go of Lolita's cheek strap and went nearer to her flank He slapped her rump. "Now go!"_

_Yates saluted the wrangler and trotted Lolita quietly away from the remuda. He headed northeast toward the mountains north of town. If he had just robbed a bank, he would head for the hills. It seemed the most logical place to start. It also seemed the most likely to run into trouble. He was right about both._


	8. Chapter 8

Rawhide

Incident of the Sterling Fox

Chapter 8

"Did you hear somethin'?" The nervous looking young man, known as Cameron Holt, shifted to a more comfortable position on the log that he sitting against and craned his neck in the direction where he had thought he'd heard something. His right arm, just below the shoulder, was bandaged where Rowdy's bullet had grazed him.

"Aw, your just jumpy is all. We'll be movin' out to a safer place as soon as we break camp." His eldest brother, Bryan, replied casually. He was whittling away at a stick and watching as Seth Holt began tying his bedroll onto the back of his saddle.

He finished tying it securely and now leaned against a very unhappy, sorrel horse. The horse snorted and pinned his ears back. "Hey, you watch it, you flea-bitten nag!" Seth moved off to a safer place, still watching the horse warily out of the corner of his eye. "That is _the_ most cantankerous cayuse I believe I've ever ridden. And top it off, he's missin' a shoe!" His hazel eyes squinted as he glared at Carl Gleason, who was saddling his own stolen horse.

Gleason gave a firm tug on the cinch and turned to face Seth, coolly. "Well, now, you didn't expect me to go around pickin' up all them horses' hooves, now did ya?" He said calmly, but his words dripped sarcasm. "Besides, I'll have it fixed in no time down at Amy's place."

Bryan threw down the cigarette he had been smoking and stomped it out with his boot heel, then turned to Gleason. "Say, uh, what's this Amy like, huh? You sure she ain't gonna snitch and run off for the sheriff?"

Gleason grit his teeth and his jaw tightened. "Amy's not like that. I helped her folks when they was alive and we both figure she owes me a good turn." He continued to do a check to make sure his tack was adjusted properly. The horse he had stolen for himself was a chestnut gelding with a good disposition.

"Well, I sure hope she don't decide to change her mind. You're too deep in this to turn back now, Gleason, so you'd better not do any thinkin' bout telling the law bout us either." Bryan warned.

Carl Gleason turned around slowly but casually and smirked at the eldest brother. "You still don't trust me, do you?"

Bryan's mouth twisted into a snarl. "I don't trust nobody." He spat on the ground and went to his own mount. On his saddle, he placed a heavy saddlebag with a lock on the flap. The contents were known only by himself and his two brothers. He had never allowed Gleason to so much as get within an inch of it.

_Wonder what's so all fired important in there,_ Gleason watched thoughtfully as Bryan Holt secured the saddlebags and checked the lock. Bryan grinned to himself and mounted up.

"All right, boys! Mount up! We're movin' out." The creak of saddle leather and shuffling of the nervous horses' hooves sounded in the still night air, as the two younger Holt brothers and Carl Gleason mounted up. Fox was none too happy about his new rider and made sure it was a known fact. He pinned his ears back angrily and he shifted sideways, when Seth Holt clumsily shoved the toe of his boot into the sorrel horse's sleek side. After a few moments, Fox began walking, following the other horses down the steep, brush-covered trail that led to Amy Jackson's ranch.

Meanwhile, nearing the same ranch, coming from the southwest, rode a lone drover astride a palomino mare. Lolita's coat shined in the moonlight when the clouds moved away from the large milky-colored moon. Her pale mane whipped in the sudden breeze making her appear ghostly and look like the ghost white phantom horse that so many cowboys told tales of.

Rowdy felt a sudden chill. His fever must've been worse than Wishbone thought. _Wish I'd brought my coat,_ he thought miserably. He hunched over in the saddle trying to escape the breeze that was beginning to kick up. Rowdy looked up at the sky. Looming gray clouds were beginning to move quickly and were bunching up. The young ramrod tightened the stampede string on his hat. His chills were coming faster now and harder. His teeth chattered and his body shook uncontrollably. Once he almost slipped from the saddle. _I g-gotta stay in the saddle. Gotta find Fox. He urged his horse into a trot._

_The palomino lifted her slender head and snorted. Rowdy looked in the direction Lolita's ears were pricked. There was some sort of light up ahead. Maybe a mile and a half or so away. If he could only make it that far! _

_They were closer now, and Rowdy could make out the silhouette of a ranch house and what he thought was a barn. The clouds rumbled and lights spatters of rain started to fall. They were almost there now. Just a few more strides and he'd at least make it to the shelter of the barn. Suddenly, the thunder shook the earth and the prairie sky lit up for a moment. Lolita whinnied in fear at a rabbit that scurried by looking for shelter from the now pounding rain. Rowdy held on with every ounce of his strength as the frightened palomino reared and pawed at the sky with her hooves. Lolita's fore hooves crashed back down to earth and she sprung back up again, her hooves thrashing at an invisible enemy. "Easy, Lolita! Easy!" Rowdy yelled to be heard over the din of the late summer storm and the mare's screams._

_He leaned against her rain soaked neck and sat deep in the saddle trying to get all of her hooves back on the ground. If he could get her to stop rearing, he could make a few tight circles to calm her. _

_But the mare's eyes rolled in fear and she would have none of it. She threw her head back, slamming against Rowdy's forehead. The impact stunned Rowdy and the pain combined with the bullet wound from the day before, made him see spots before his eyes. Lolita bolted and the ramrod fell from the saddle. _


	9. Chapter 9

Rawhide

Incident of the Sterling Fox

Chapter 9

Amy Jackson had just let Carl Gleason and the Holt brothers in from the rain, when they all heard a commotion near the barn. She hurried to the parlor window to look outside. She squinted, trying to see through the heavy rain that now poured down from the rumbling sky. "I can't see a thing out there!" She turned to Gleason.

"It'd better not be a posse 'cause if it is-" Bryan Holt said threateningly. He patted his holster and gave Gleason, and a very frightened, Amy, a menacing glare.

The house seemed to shake from the thunder outside. The area near the barn lit up for a moment but the rain pounding against the window proved it impossible to detect what might be lurking outside. A terrified neigh and a man yelling urgently, caused all heads to turn towards the sound.

"I'll go check it out. Stay here, Amy" Gleason grabbed his hat and opened the front door.

"Be careful, Carl!" Amy called, her voice tight with anxiety.

The door shut with a resounding thud and she hurried to open it again. She peered through the inky blackness and tried to see Gleason. Lightning cracked and the yard flooded with light for a moment. She glimpsed Gleason bending over something or someone.

"Hey, Amy!" He shouted.

"Yeah?"

"Tell one of them Holt's to come out here and give me a hand!"

Amy turned to the Holt brothers who were standing behind her in the doorway. She opened her mouth to relay the message but the oldest brother silenced her with a raised hand, signaling for her to not say anything. "I heard 'im." He said curtly.

"Ya think it's a trick, Bryan?" the whiny voiced Seth asked.

"Maybe there's a posse out there. Maybe we're surrounded! Maybe this Gleason's a traitor! Maybe-" Cameron was interrupted by Bryan.

"Shut up, little brother." He snapped.

Just then, Gleason's voice called out from the yard again. "Hurry! Got a sick man out here!"

Outside, Carl Gleason kneeled over the young man. "It's alright. You're gonna be alright. What's your name? What happened out here?"

"Name's Rowdy Yates. My…my horse…she bolted." The young man managed to whisper, his teeth chattering from the chills. Gleason looked around. There was no sign of the horse he spoke of.

"I don't see your horse nowhere around. Must've run off." He held the young man's head off the muddy ground. Then he noticed the bandage. Shock bolted through him and he placed his hand on the stranger's left shoulder. Underneath the soaked and muddy shirt he felt a lumpy bandage. Realization hit him as he recognized the young man's face and he realized that this was the drover who had been at the post office when the bank had been robbed. _I sure hope those Holt's don't recognize him. Gleason thought anxiously. He knew if they did, the drover wouldn't stand a chance._

_Seth Holt trotted out into the rain, bundled tightly in a slicker, toward Gleason and the man lying on the ground. Together they carried, a shaking, feverish Rowdy into the parlor and laid him on the sofa._

_Once they had the drover settled on the sofa in front of the fireplace, Amy hovered to and fro gathering a few blankets from the bedroom. She laid them on the sick stranger and went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee._

_By now all three Holt brothers and Carl Gleason were standing before the fire around the sofa and their visitor, who had passed out. Cameron was the first to speak, "Who do ya think it is? Ya think maybe he's runnin' from the law? Look at his head all bandaged up like that. Wonder what he was doin' out here." He said it all in one breath. _

_Bryan scrutinized the drover, suspiciously. "I don't rightly know, little brother, but I don't like it. Don't like it at all. He might be with a posse lookin' for us, for all we know."_

"_He said his name is Rowdy Yates." Gleason spoke up. When the brothers looked at him with surprised expressions, he added, "He told me before he passed out." He shrugged._

"_We need to find out just who he is and what he's doin' here." _

_Bryan bent close to Rowdy's face and began patting his cheek lightly. "Come on, boy. Hey, you! Wake up."_

_Rowdy groaned and slowly opened his eyes. It took him a moment before he remembered what had happened. He studied the men before him. The man who had woke him, was gruff-looking and had a scowl on a face that was badly in need of a shave. Rowdy coughed hoarsely, and a girl appeared beside the sofa with a steaming cup of coffee. "Here, drink this, you'll feel better." She coaxed him to take it in her soft southern accent._

"_Thank you, ma'am. I'm much obliged." His hands shook as he reached for the mug and took a swallow of the warm liquid. He sighed with relief as it warmed his cold, aching body. "My horse spooked at a rabbit then the lighting started up and she just bolted right out from under me. I'm sorry to inconvenience you like this." Rowdy looked up apologetically at her._

_She smiled. "It's no inconvenience at all. I don't get visitors out here often. What's your name?"_

_The coffee cup warmed Rowdy's hands as he answered. "Rowdy Yates. I'm the ramrod of a cattle drive about 9 miles or so southwest of here." He motioned the direction with a wave of his arm. He winced. He'd forgotten about not using his injured arm. The girl seemed not to notice._

"_I'm Amy Jackson and these are my, uh-" She stammered. _

_The man, with the kinder face, standing next to her finished her sentence. "Brothers. I'm Carl, and this is Bryan, Seth, and Cameron." He pointed at the three other men while saying their names. The one with the scowl on his face was Bryan. Seth had blonde curly hair whereas Cameron had brown curly hair. Both of their eyes were hazel. Cameron was short, and had a sardonic expression on his round face. Seth had a thin, wiry frame and reminded Rowdy of a scared rabbit. Something about the four men seemed vaguely familiar._

_After a round of greetings, Bryan stepped forward. "What were you doin' out in that storm? And so far from your herd?"_

"_Well, my horse was stolen from me yesterday and I went lookin' for him." Rowdy glanced down at his cup of coffee for a moment. He decided to leave out the part about him sneaking off without the trail boss's permission. "I didn't know the storm was comin'." _

_Bryan seemed satisfied for the moment and settled down on the other end of the sofa. There was something strange about the way the three of the men studied Rowdy that made him uneasy. _

_Cameron pulled a wooden chair closer to Rowdy and sat down. "What's this horse o' yours look like?"_

_Rowdy took another gulp of coffee. "Well, his name is Fox. He's a sort of a fox color, and he's got a white blaze and three white socks. I was mailing some letters when he was stolen in town. When the bank was robbed." Then for no apparent reason, Cameron's eyes bugged, Amy's hand flew to her mouth, Seth who had been leaning against the hearth almost fell over, and Bryan's head popped up with a very upset expression on his face. Rowdy looked at them confusedly. Gleason seemed to be the only one who wasn't shocked; The man just calmly surveyed the scene with Rowdy._

_Gleason then looked back to Rowdy. "Is that right? Well, I hope you find him. I lost a horse once. Good horse, too. She was my pard for bout a year and a half. She went missin' from the livery one night without a trace bout a year ago, I guess it was. Beautiful palomino, she was. I called her Sunbeam. Sunny for short."_

"_I'm sorry."_

_Gleason sighed and scuffed one of his boots against the dark hardwood floor. "No need for that. Can't change the past and I've learned to live without her." But the almost imperceptible tremor in his voice said otherwise. An uncomfortable silence settled on the ranch house. _

_Rowdy shifted uneasily on the sofa. His chills were gone; having been warmed by the blankets, which now lay folded beside him, and the hot coffee. But there was a strange tension that seemed to hang in the air. Trying to lighten the mood, Rowdy smiled at Amy and tried to make conversation; but the girl seemed distressed and spoke stiffly. Suddenly, upon studying their faces more closely, Rowdy realized where he had seen the four men. He sucked in his breath sharply. "You're the guys who robbed the bank!" Rowdy blurted out. Amy stood stock-still her eyes widening in fear._

_He regretted his realization the instant Bryan, sitting beside him, pulled out his gun. The gun's hammer clicked back and Rowdy gulped. "Now wait just a minute here." It was Carl Gleason who had spoken. _

_Bryan turned on Gleason. "Whaddya mean 'wait'? Yates here knows who we are. And we can't let him go runnin' to the law." Bryan sneered and grinned wickedly at Rowdy. Then he made the mistake of briefly turning his attention back to Gleason. _

_Rowdy made a grab for the gun causing both he and Bryan to fall onto the floor. Rowdy squeezed Bryan's wrist, trying his best to make the outlaw drop the gun. A shot rang out from the gun and Amy screamed. Bryan's knee came up and the air whooshed out of the ramrod's lungs. Suddenly, Yates found himself on his back but not for long. Again, the two rolled. Rowdy almost had the gun now. "Seth! Cameron! Gleason, someone give me a hand!" Bryan yelled angrily at his two brothers and the man near Amy. Just as the gun was about to leave the outlaw's viselike grip, Rowdy felt himself being jerked roughly to his feet and off of Bryan. Panting and with a wicked gleam in his eyes, Bryan grit his teeth and glared at Rowdy; he pulled out his gun and aimed. "I'll teach you to mess with me, you little-" Rowdy felt one of the brother's grip loosen slightly on his arm. In a flash, his fist swung out and made contact with Bryan's jaw. Then everything went black._


	10. Chapter 10

Rawhide

Incident of the Sterling Fox

Chapter 10

Faint voices faded in and out and the world seemed to swim around Rowdy. "Let's kill him now." "No, Bryan! We don't want a murder rap over our heads." "Listen, you three just wanted recognition, right? Well, we'll leave him tied up in the barn and once we leave he can spread the word about the terrible Holt Boys. You'll be feared, far and wide." There was one time he remembered being carried and then being terribly cold. Warmth engulfed him and he risked opening his eyes. At first, the light was blinding; then the dark forms before him began to take shape. "He's comin' to, Boss." Wait a minute. That voice was awfully familiar. Trying to sort out the various voices made his head ache even more. He groaned. A moment later, he opened his eyes and this time he saw Gil Favor and Pete Nolan kneeling in the straw in front of him. Rowdy looked around confusedly. He was leaning against a stall door in a barn. Light peeked through the cracks in the wood and settling dust seemed to sparkle in the dawning light. Wishbone and Mushy stood farther behind Favor and Pete; both looking anxious. Standing with Lolita, the stunning palomino, was Hey Soos looking forlorn and worried. Rowdy looked back at Favor.

Favor wore a slightly angry expression on his face; but relief was also plain to see on the man's clear, cut features. "What is the _matter with you, boy? Can't you stay out of trouble just once?"_

_Beside the trail boss, Pete gave a crooked grin. "Oh, Boss. You know he can't do that. Why, he's just a youngin'; still got a lot to learn. You can't expect him to use his head, can you?"_

_Rowdy had just opened his mouth to protest when he looked over to where Mushy and Wishbone were standing. The cook was chuckling and smiling widely. He elbowed Mushy who was grinning and laughing now too. The young man elbowed Wishbone in return, still laughing. Almost as suddenly as it had began, Wishbone stopped chuckling and gave Mushy a strange look. Slowly, Mushy's laughter ceased and he cleared his throat nervously; he glanced at the old cook now and then. Wishbone shook his head in despair and brought his attention back to Rowdy._

"_How'd you find me, Mr. Favor? Did you catch the bank robbers?" The ramrod asked, still confused._

"_They're in custody now." Favor nodded his head to the three Holt brothers. For the first time, Rowdy noticed the bank robbers standing in a row with their hands tied. A sheriff and a deputy stood on both sides of them. "As for us bein' here, your partner in crime over there," Favor looked at Hey Soos, who bowed his head sheepishly, "he told us where you'd gone off to. And you know Pete here. He claims he can track a coyote through a hailstorm; so we decided to test his skills." _

_Pete stuck out his chest in mock haughtiness. "I found him, didn't I?"_

_Hey Soos slowly, hesitantly, walked up to Rowdy looking ashamed and worried. "I am sorry, Senor Rowdy. If I had stopped you from going instead of aiding you, you would not be hurt. You could have been killed, and I would have been to blame. Will you forgive me, Senor Rowdy?" _

_Rowdy was touched by the small wrangler's concern. "None of this was your fault, Hey Soos. Even you'd stopped me I woulda found some other way to leave. Even if I had to walk." The ramrod gave a crooked smile, trying to reassure Hey Soos. _

_"Then you are not angry with me?" He met Rowdy's eyes with a hopeful look in his dark brown eyes._

_"Naw, I-" He broke off in mid-sentence, suddenly remembering the purpose of his mission. "Hey Soos, was Fox anywhere around when you got here?" _

_The Mexican wrangler nodded excitedly, glad to be free of the guilt that had plagued him when he first saw the rider less horse gallop into camp. "Si, look for yourself." He motioned to the stall next to the one that the ramrod was leaning against. Craning his neck to see, Yates was overjoyed to see a blaze-faced sorrel head peering down at him from behind a thick forelock. He scrambled to his feet and hugged Fox's neck. Fox nickered joyfully and nuzzled the ramrod's mussed hair. Favor smiled inwardly at the joyful reunion between a cowboy and his horse._

"_Oh, Fox. I missed you so much." Rowdy whispered; breathing in his horse's sweet smell. He stepped back and rubbed Fox's forehead, scratching the horse's special spot. "They didn't hurt ya did they, boy?" _

"_No, I made sure of that. Though his mouth might still be sore for a while. Seth saws the reins when he rides and that horse has got a soft mouth." Rowdy whirled around to face the voice. To his shock and dismay, standing there in front of him was the man who had stolen Fox in the first place; it was Carl Gleason._

"_You! Mr. Favor he's the one who-" Rowdy broke off when Favor raised his hand to silence him. The ramrod looked at him, confused and puzzled. "He's no criminal, Rowdy." Favor stated plainly. What was going on? This man was a criminal and nobody was doing anything about it._


	11. Chapter 11

Rawhide

Incident of the Sterling Fox

Chapter 11

Seeing the puzzled expression on the young man's face, the sheriff stepped forward and cut in. "I'm Anthony Cutler, sheriff of Sterling Gap." He stretched out his hand in greeting. Rowdy shook it, then the sheriff continued. "He's right, Mr. Yates. This man is no criminal. He's a credit to our growin' nation, in fact. Why, he's no more criminal than you or I am. I'll let him explain. Carl?"

Gleason nodded his thanks to Sheriff Cutler, then turned to face Rowdy again. "You see, Rowdy, I work for the government. The Secret Service, actually." He dug into his pocket and brought out a silver, five point star engraved with the words, 'United States Secret Service'. "I've been travelin' all over California trackin' down a band of counterfeiters. That trail finally led me to Sterling Gap, where I'd received an anonymous tip about some of this phony money floatin' around. It seems the Holt boys here are what are known as passers. They're supplied with the counterfeit money and their job is to spread it around." Gleason lifted a saddlebag off of the wall behind him. After opening it, he pulled out several thick wads of money. Pete gave a long, low whistle. Gleason pulled out a match from his hip pocket and lit it; he brought the small flame closer to one of the folds of money. They burst into flame and Gleason dropped it onto the dirt floor of the barn; careful so as not to set the straw ablaze. "What're you doin' ?" Wishbone yelped, his face registering shock. Gleason chuckled lightly. "That was some of the counterfeit bills, Wishbone. Don't worry. They're worthless." Wishbone looked slightly embarrassed then turned on Mushy, who had been quietly watching the scenario unfold before him. "See? I told you they was worthless - Don't know what you're gettin' so head up about." The cook harrumphed. Mushy looked at him slightly confused, his eyebrows knit together in deep concentration.

Gleason chuckled again and turned back to Rowdy to continue his explanation. "Anyway, it seems the Holt brothers were tired of spreadin' this stuff around not gettin' any kind of recognition. So they decided robbin' the bank would be the best way to get that recognition. Well, they're gettin' it now. Just not the kind you figured on, huh, Bryan?" The tallest brother scowled at Gleason; his eyes filled with hate for the Secret Service agent. "I hope I didn't hit you over the head too hard. It was the only way I could think of to keep them from killing you."

Rowdy rubbed his sore head but shook his head. "I'm alright."

At that moment, Lolita forcefully pulled Hey Soos towards Gleason. Lolita whinnied in recognition as she sniffed the agent. Rowdy suddenly realized something. "Hey, she's not…she couldn't be…is she?" He stammered. Gleason smiled, but there was a sad look in his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure she is. But I ain't got no way of provin' it. Do we, Sunny?" The palomino mare swished her tail and stomped her hoof. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, girl?" The mare's whicker seemed to fill with sadness and longing. Hey Soos looked to Rowdy for an explanation. The ramrod went on to repeat the story that Gleason had told him about the stolen palomino. It was a one-in-a-million chance, but deep down in his heart, Gleason knew this was the horse that had been stolen from him a year ago on that dreadful day in San Francisco.

Hey Soos watched the pair thoughtfully and then he made up his mind. Even if it cost him his job, he would not keep this pair from being separated again after just being reunited. Taking Gleason's hand, the wrangler put the mare's lead rope into Gleason's own hand. "It is clear that you both need each other. She is yours, senor." Gleason searched the wrangler's face for any signs of trickery; but he only saw honesty and sincerity. Gil Favor raised an eyebrow at Hey Soos. "I will gladly pay for her, Senor Favor - I do not have the money right now but you can take it out of my pay." Hey Soos hurriedly said.

Favor looked thoughtful for a moment and then spoke. "Well, seein' as how she was stolen from this gentleman in the first place and seein' as how he _is a lawman and needs some mode of transportation, I don't see why he shouldn't have her." He put on a serious expression and leaned against a post supporting the barn's roof. "After all, it's the very least we can do for the law, right, boys?" A round of nods went through all of the drovers._

_Gleason smiled and looked to Favor with thanks and happiness written all over his face. "You know, for the first time in my life, I just don't know what to say. In my line of work, my words have to come fast, but-" Gleason's voice broke. He wiped his dusty sleeve across his tear, blurred eyes. "This blasted alkali dust." _

_The sheriff cleared his throat and shifted the rifle in his hands uncomfortably. "Eh, why don't we all go outside? It's gettin' kinda crowded round here." Sheriff Cutler suggested. "And besides, I do believe I hear a glass of Miss Amy's famous lemonade callin' me."_

_With that, everyone left the barn and come out into the misty morning light; Rowdy leading Fox and Gleason leading Sunny. A rooster crowed from somewhere on the ranch and the hens near the barn scurried away in flurry of feathers; desperate to escape the path of the horses' hooves. Amy stood standing on the porch leaning on the post at the railing; her skirt fluttering slightly in the wind. Upon seeing the drovers, the lawmen, and the outlaws in custody exiting the barn, she hurried out to meet them. After informing the sheriff and his deputy that they had a glass of cool lemonade waiting for them inside; and for any of the drovers if they cared for any, Amy went up to Agent Gleason and hugged him tightly._

"_Oh, Carl! I was so worried! Are you alright? Did you give the sheriff the money? Are you gonna go straight now?" She rattled off her questions so fast, Gleason laughed good-naturedly._

"_Yes, I'm alright, but girl, I gotta lot to explain to you. I couldn't tell you before." His voice trailed off as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and the pair walked toward the corral; leading Sunny; his lost and, now, found mare._

_Gil Favor and Rowdy Yates gazed after them; both deep in thought. Both had their own thoughts, but both thinking mainly of their past loved ones. Favor glanced at Rowdy wondering what was on his mind; He himself was thinking of his dear, departed wife. The young ramrod had a look of longing, and of pain, etched onto his clear cut features. There had once been someone in his life. During the great war between the states. But, ah, that was in the past. Rowdy sighed deeply and shook his head, turning to join the other men in their celebration inside._

_He turned back abruptly as a joyful shout erupted from near the corral. He saw Gleason leap to his feet and take Amy's hands in his own. Amy laughed and giggled as the two swung in a circle. "She said yes! Ya-hoo!" Gleason whooped and threw his hat up in the air._

_Gil Favor smiled broadly. Young love. He remembered what his own proposal had been like. He had been so nervous beforehand but when she had said yes, the scene that followed had been somewhat like this couple's joy._

_Rowdy's voice interrupted his reminisces of the past. "I almost did the same thing once." Gil Favor looked at him in surprise but did not press his ramrod to say more. There were some things that were best left alone and buried. And Favor sensed that this was one of those things._

_The trail boss nodded solemnly. He glanced at Rowdy again to see him inspecting what he had thought were dead rose bushes. He looked closer and saw that Rowdy had discovered a solitary red rosebud on the decrepit looking bush. Rowdy spoke, "It's like everything's beginning a new life, a new journey." The ramrod nodded toward the couple. "Them and this rose." He said it so low as he looked at the rosebud once more, Favor almost didn't hear him. There was clearly something on the young man's mind._

_Favor nodded again, then turned to go inside to gather his men. Rowdy followed suit a few minutes later and after they had all been rounded up, and everyone had bid their adieu to Agent Gleason and the soon-to-be Mrs. Amy Gleason, they rode back to the herd. _

_Back in camp, Rowdy assigned the men to their positions on the herd and soon the drive was back underway. Favor, who was riding in his usual position of point, gave the familiar order that rang loud and clear over the bawls of the 3,000 head of cattle._

"_Head 'em up! Move 'em out!"_

_THE END_


End file.
